


Something New

by AK_Vintage



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, First Time, Post-Curse Storybrooke, Smut, well...sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-29
Updated: 2015-06-29
Packaged: 2018-04-06 19:38:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4234140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AK_Vintage/pseuds/AK_Vintage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"If this was desire, it was different from what she felt in the Enchanted Forest. It was deeper and more consuming, thrumming away low in her stomach and melting into liquid heat every time he spoke. It had been driving her mad for days – ever since they had been reunited, she’d been surrounded by him... and yet she could never seem to get close enough. He’d only been initiating the gentlest of kisses and only touched her when she asked for it, but Belle wasn’t sure how to ask for what she wanted anymore."</p>
<p>A week after she is reunited with her True Love, Belle seeks relief from the desire that has been building between them since the Dark Castle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something New

**Author's Note:**

> Written in response to the prompt: "One successfully turning the other on" from a smut meme on Tumblr. This is unbeta-ed, so all mistakes or inaccuracies are my own. Enjoy!

It had been less than a week since the man called Jefferson had rescued her from her underground prison. When he had first wrapped that mothball-scented coat around her shoulders and pointed her in the direction of “Mr. Gold”, she had immediately obeyed and sought him out in a daze. She’d been so driven by fear and an overwhelming need to get as far as possible from the dank, fetid cell where she had spent the last eternity that she hadn’t even paused to think that perhaps this Mr. Gold wasn’t to be trusted any more than her nurse-jailers. However, the moment she stepped through the door of his shop and locked eyes with the mysterious man, she had felt a profound sense of comfort. Her mind may have been too fuzzy and frayed to remember her own name, but she had known in that moment, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Mr. Gold, with his limpid brown eyes and his big, gentle hands, would take care of her. She was safe with him.

Of course, it hadn’t been long after that strangely emotional first meeting that Belle realized why she felt no fear in his presence – he was not, after all, a wicked old pawnbroker, but rather Rumplestiltskin, her True Love. And suddenly, safety was no longer the predominant emotion she experienced when he was near.

There was fondness, of course. Affection, certainly. Trust. Perhaps a tiny bit of awe. And love. Surely, there was just as much love for him in her heart as there had ever been. However, their interactions since she had regained her memory had also been overshadowed by an odd sort of…frustration? Tension? Belle wasn’t certain what to call it exactly, but it was beginning to take its toll. She didn’t blame him for it, of course – although clearly a bit tentative, a bit unsure, Rumplestiltskin had been nothing but kind to her. He made her meals, outfitted her with an entirely new wardrobe, brought her tea in the afternoons, and held her close when she woke in the night trembling and drenched in sweat from the memory of her captivity. Even with all of that, however, she was still left wanting… _more_.

That, at least, was something with which Belle was familiar. She’d felt it in the Dark Castle, all those years ago, and had known it for what it was: desire. She had spent innumerable hours while tidying up the sorcerer’s rather large estate wondering what it would be like to feel his lips on hers, to run her fingers through his wild hair, to press her body along his own leather-clad form. Now, she had done all of those things (if she substituted crisp wool suits for his old leather trousers and heavy waistcoats). And they were all lovely, as wonderful as she had always dreamed they would be, but they weren’t _enough_.

Belle wanted more than chaste kisses, more than innocent touches, more than embraces meant solely for comfort. Something bigger was burning deep within her, and there were times when she felt that she might burst into flames if something didn’t ease her suffering.

This was one such instance.

Night had fallen over the town of Storybrooke, and, as had become their custom over the last several days, Belle and Rumplestiltskin were nestled in one of the sitting rooms of his great pink house on the outskirts of town. Sometimes they each nursed cups of tea, sometimes something a bit stronger, but there were always books involved. Mr. Gold had been a collector of many things, and that included books on every topic one could imagine; Belle had been over the moon when she discovered the fully-stocked library just off the study. It was proving invaluable to her education on this strange new world. After all, all of the others had memories of their past lives to fall back on, but not her – the only piece of information in her memory was how many cinderblocks made up the walls of the cell in the basement of the hospital. She had counted them so many times… Regardless, Belle had never been one to suffer ignorance in herself and thus had asked Rumple if he would help her learn as much as she could about what made this land so different from their own.

Tonight, they were each sipping on glasses of fine red wine, and Rumplestiltskin was reading to her from a thick, dusty tome on the invention of electricity. (“It’s what powers the lights and keeps the house warm at night,” he’d explained.) Of course, Belle was more than capable of reading the book to herself, but she rather liked listening to his voice. It was so different in this world than the one she had grown accustomed to hearing echo through the halls of the Dark Castle. There, it had been higher and lighter, with an almost musical quality, lending itself well to his flamboyant and flighty mannerisms. She had always wondered if perhaps his voice had been part of the act, part of the mask of glee and mischievousness he assumed when making his deals. It seemed now that that theory was at least partially true – his voice in this world was far deeper, warmer, and just the slightest bit gruff with the brogue common in those who had grown up in the Frontlands. And that voice, soft and low and ghosting over the words in the desperately dull book like crushed velvet, was doing _nothing_ to ease the coil of tension in her abdomen.

Belle fidgeted in her seat.

The motion must have caught Rumplestiltskin’s eye, for he fell silent in mid-sentence and looked at her over the book in his hands, a single brow arched in question. “Everything all right, darling?” he asked. Warmth blossomed in her cheeks and across her chest at the endearment. She adored his little pet names for her – they made her feel precious, cherished.

“Of course,” she choked, and then quickly cleared her throat. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? You looked a thousand miles away just now,” he said. “Am I boring you? There’s only so much I can do to make this subject engaging, I’m afraid.” A teasing smile curved the corner of his mouth, and Belle felt as though the bottom had just dropped out of her stomach. That coil of tension wound a bit tighter.

If this was desire, it was different from what she felt in the Enchanted Forest. It was deeper and more consuming, thrumming away low in her stomach and melting into liquid heat every time he spoke. It had been driving her mad for _days_ – ever since they had been reunited, she’d been surrounded by him, by his scent, by his things, by his _voice_ , and yet she could never seem to get close enough to him. He’d only been initiating the gentlest of kisses and only touched her when she asked for it, but Belle wasn’t sure how to ask for what she wanted anymore.

Unable to reply, Belle watched silently as Rumplestiltskin’s gaze flickered over her face, searching her expression. He took in her stiff body language, the flush high on her cheeks, her shortness of breath. It was her mouth, however, that seemed to arrest him, and his countenance shifted from curious to captivated before she could blink. With a jolt, Belle realized she was chewing on her bottom lip, and she released it, instinctively running her tongue over the reddened skin to soothe the hurt. His eyes followed the motion, and she could swear she saw his adam’s apple bob feverishly above his unbuttoned collar.

Belle felt her heart begin to beat more insistently against her ribs at the sight. Perhaps, she thought to herself, she wasn’t the only one experiencing that delicious tension. Perhaps she wasn’t the only one burning up from the inside, longing to let the flames consume her. He had been nothing but a gentleman all week, but was it possible that he truly _did_ want more, just as she did? That he had been keeping himself at arm’s length for _her_ sake? Perhaps… Perhaps Rumplestiltskin _wanted_ her.

The place between her thighs, a place she had only ever dared to explore on a handful of occasions, throbbed at the thought.

“Rumple,” she sighed thoughtlessly. His eyelids seemed to become heavy, fluttering shut in response. His eyes were nearly black when he opened them, and the long-forgotten book slipped from his nerveless fingers. Belle barely heard the bang as it hit the floor. There was no other explanation - her True Love _desired_ her.

It was more than she could take.

In a daze, Belle unfolded her legs from where they were tucked beneath her in the armchair. They were much too far apart – they had been apart for so long, how could he stand to sit so far away from her? Rising to her feet, she crossed the room to him. Rumple was in his usual spot, a leftover habit from when he was Mr. Gold, he had explained. It was at the far end of an antique loveseat huddled close to the fireplace, and she could feel her insides quake as she watched him watching her.

He looked awestruck, frightened, and totally enthralled.

She was standing over him in seconds, her kneecaps gently brushing his.

“ _Belle_.” Rumplestiltskin’s voice was low and tortured, barely more than a whisper, and the sound of it rippled through her belly, flooding her with heat. “What are you – ”

Belle gently silenced him with two fingertips against his lips. She could feel his face and throat work with a swallow at the barely-there caress. She’d always been rather fond of his mouth, thin and well-formed with a generous lower lip and a ready smirk forever lurking in the corners. That smirk was long gone now, and she felt a secret thrill at the thought that she was responsible for that. She was leaving him dazed, and she hadn’t even _done_ anything yet!

Furiously tamping down the nervous butterflies threatening to overwhelm her, Belle brought both of her knees up onto the antique loveseat, perching so that they were pressed firmly against his thigh as she sat back on her heels. From this angle, she was looking down at him. Her hands shook in her lap, and she wasn’t certain if it was out of fear or something sweeter. Regardless, now was no time to be afraid, not with Rumple’s eyes getting darker by the second, not with both of their chests rising and falling rapidly between them. The warmth of his body was so very, very close now, and in that moment, she was certain that she had never needed anything as much as she needed to touch him.

_Do the brave thing, and bravery will follow._

Belle’s lips were on his before she could talk herself out of it.

They had shared countless kisses since being reunited in this world, but none of them had been anything like this. They had felt…restrained. Sweet, but chaste. Belle had always suspected that Rumple had been holding out on her, keeping his own ardor in check so as to not overwhelm or pressure her into anything so soon after their reunion. However, only now did she have her proof. This kiss was like nothing else she had ever experienced, and it seemed as though whatever barriers either of them had put up just couldn’t hold under the force of their passion.

This was what kissing was supposed to be, she was sure of it – light and joy and hunger and _him_. _Gods_ , Rumplestiltskin was _everywhere_ – his hands firmly sliding from her waist to her back, then up between her shoulder blades, leaving trails of lightning in their wake, his lips gliding wetly along hers, purposeful and hot and needy. There was an urgency, a hunger to the way he took her bottom lip between both of his and _sucked_ , and Belle felt the pull of that gentle motion all the way to her womb. A ridiculous, wanton noise escaped her, somewhere between a moan and a squeak, but before she could pull away in embarrassment, Rumple gathered her closer. It was like he couldn’t get enough of her, and Belle was trembling with it.

Eventually, however, she was forced to pull back to gulp a few lungfuls of air. Their mouths separated with a slick, wet pop, and Belle could feel more than hear Rumplestiltskin’s groan of satisfaction at the sound. She rested her forehead against his for a moment as she caught her breath, her eyes struggling to open but so wanting to make certain that he was as affected by this as she was. It was just a kiss, on the surface, not terribly unlike those they had shared before, but somehow she knew that it was going to the catalyst for many _new_ things for them to share.

As her gaze met his, she wasn’t disappointed. Rumplestiltskin was an absolute wreck – his graying hair was disheveled from her hands (when had she grabbed it?), his mouth was red from the pressure of her lips, his eyelids were clearly fighting a battle similar to her own, and his chest was heaving with quick, shallow breaths. As she watched, the tip of his dark pink tongue slipped out to moisten his lips, and suddenly Belle understood the look that had come over him as he had watched her do the same earlier. She wanted to taste that tongue. She wanted to feel its silken slide against her own, wanted to know if it would be as skilled at pleasing her as it was at weaving magic and making deals.

With a soft whine, Belle closed the distance between them once more and slanted her mouth over his. Artlessly she licked at the seam of his lips, desperation making her movements clumsy. Although clearly unpracticed, her overture was met with a rumbling groan that seemed to be pulled from the very depths of him. Rumplestiltskin welcomed her into his mouth immediately, and she thrust her tongue in with enthusiasm. His mouth was hot and wet and tasted like the red wine they had been drinking earlier, all fruit and tannins and just a touch of spice. It was heady and warm, and she could feel the flavor of him sinking into her blood like a drug.

Eagerly she explored him, flicking her tongue into every corner of the delicious cavern of his mouth. Almost absently, she brushed the tip of her tongue along his tender soft palate, and in an instant, she felt his hands drop just below her rear end and sweep her knees out from under her. Before she knew it, she was in his lap, straddling his thighs with her own, every inch of her body pressed tightly against him. _Gods, finally,_ Rumplestiltskin was losing control; he was allowing himself to stop worrying and thinking and just _feel_. Belle shivered with the knowledge – she had never felt more powerful.

That feeling was quick to evaporate, however, when Rumple slipped his tongue past her lips for the first time, allowing it to twine sensuously with her own. If she had been overwhelmed by him before, it was _nothing_ in comparison to the mind-numbing pleasure brought on by the strokes of that thick, pink muscle inside her mouth. Belle moaned deeply and received one in return. Tearing his lips from hers with a gasp, he brought his hands to her hips and used a firm, strong grip to grind her pelvis down against his. Her head rolled back on her shoulders at the sensation. The friction was _perfect_ – the place between her legs was pulsing in time with the rapid beating of her heart, and the hardening length of him, still trapped in his soft wool suit trousers, felt incredible against her.

“Gods, _yes_ – Rumple, _please_ ,” Belle panted, rolling her hips against him all on her own. “Please…”

Rumple released a breathless, ruined sound and gripped her tighter. “Oh, Belle, my Belle…” His lips left hers, brushing against her cheek and jaw before dropping fervid little kisses beneath her ear and down her neck. Sweeping her hair over her shoulder, he began to add soft nips of his teeth in with the kisses as he made his way to the juncture of her neck and shoulder. Growling deep in his chest, he sank his teeth into the soft flesh there, sucking hard. Belle cried out and jerked in his grip as a bolt of white-hot lightning shot down her spine. A sympathetic pulse quivered in that sensitive little nub of flesh hidden within the folds of her womanhood.

This was better than she could have dreamed – and certainly better than any self-inflicted fumbling she had ever attempted over the years. She felt bottomless, insatiable – desperate to gorge herself on anything and everything he would deign to offer her. Fortunately, Rumple seemed to feel the same, for he no longer found her mouth and neck to be sufficient areas for lavishing his affections. His fingers tugged gracelessly at the buttons of her blouse, his mouth trailing damp, sucking kisses across her collarbone and down her chest. There was no mistaking his ravenous touches – he wanted more of her.

Belle was quick to oblige him, batting his fingers away so she could tug the hem of her top out of the waistband of her skirt. Her heavy-lidded eyes met his as she crossed her arms over her chest and slowly, deliberately pulled the whole thing off over her head.

Rumplestiltskin _stared_.

Blushing in a way that had little to do with arousal and more to do with embarrassment, Belle wondered if perhaps she had gone a step too far, if their relationship was still too new, too fragile to withstand just how insistently she was pushing it forward. Rumple had gone completely still beneath her, gaping slightly as his eyes scorched tangible patterns over her exposed flesh, and she fought to hold onto her nerve and not wrap her arms around herself. Instead, she extended a shaking hand to caress his hair.

“T-Touch me?” Her voice was weak and imploring, and Belle inwardly cringed at the sound. She despised the way it trembled, the way she couldn’t seem to catch her breath. In spite of all of the time that had passed and all of ways their relationship had grown, sometimes she feared that she would always be the meddlesome little maid in his eyes, young and silly and so very desperate to prove her own bravery.

She needn’t have worried, however, for it seemed that once he had been given permission to touch, Rumplestiltskin couldn’t manage to keep his hands off of her. He started with a light caress with the backs of his knuckles, beginning at the waistband of her skirt and slowly, achingly slowly rising along both sides of her waist to ghost his thumbs across her ribcage. He was so very close to her breasts, his touch teasing and gentle. Belle mewled under her breath and squirmed in his lap – she could feel her nipples pebbling, tightening, _straining_ against the satin of her bra, as if they were begging for his attention all on their own. The swiveling of her hips earned her a hiss as she dragged her center across his length, and he seemed to get the hint; his calloused palms slid up those final inches to cup her through the fabric, and Belle felt her eyes slip shut as he kneaded her flesh.

“So beautiful – so perfect. My love.” His voice was hoarse and low, his accent thickening in his passion as he trapped her nipples between his thumb and index finger and _tugged_. Belle keened as wetness bloomed between her thighs, making her slick and sensitive.

However, it wasn’t enough. Belle could feel the blood rising in her neck and chest as he toyed with her, as her need mounted. Her ears were full of the sound of her own panting breath, and yet she couldn’t find the words to articulate what she wanted. “More, gods – Rumple – ” she begged, quickly becoming desperate. Fortunately, no more words were needed, for in an instant, Rumple was breathing “yes” and fumbling behind her back with the clasp of her bra. After a few frustrated wrenches, it came loose, and he was quick to pull the straps down her shoulders and fling the garment away. Belle shivered at the sudden exposure, and she had only a moment to take in the fact that her bare breasts were now mere inches from her True Love’s face before having no choice but to throw her head back with a cry – he had taken one of her nipples in his _mouth_!

His lips encircled the hypersensitive bud, and his hot tongue pressed it against the roof of his mouth as he suckled like a babe. Belle couldn’t stop the whimpers and moans pouring from her throat at the feel of it, her hands coming up to cradle the back of his head. Her nails scratched along his scalp, and he growled in response, nipping at her as he moved on to the other breast. The wetness, the suction, the hunger and urgency – it was quickly becoming too much for her to handle. Murmuring what she was sure was utter nonsense, Belle used her grip on Rumple’s hair to drag him back up to her waiting mouth.

This kiss was messy, teeth and tongues and greed and savage, ravenous longing. Rumplestiltskin’s arms anchored her upper body against his chest, his hips shunting upward against her in a way that felt involuntary, and abruptly, Belle realized that he was still fully clothed. That would not do. She needed to _feel_ him. Shoving insistently at his shoulders, she managed to slip her hands down between their bodies and began pulling his tiny, pearlescent shirt buttons from their holes. He had abandoned his signature tie, jacket, and waistcoat earlier in the evening, so that made her task a bit easier, but there was still the matter of his cufflinks. Belle was sure she would never get those undone in this position. With one last little nibble on his lower lip, she broke the kiss and gasped his name to get his attention.

“Shirt. Off. Cufflinks,” she stammered, breathing heavily. Rumplestiltskin nodded and allowed her to take his hands in hers, working with her to wiggle the plain gold studs back through the holes in his shirtsleeves. Once they were loose, Belle spared a brief thought for the tiny pieces of jewelry that were most likely about to be lost in the cushions of this loveseat forever. Rumple didn’t seem overly concerned; in fact, he was quickly shedding his dress shirt, and Belle scrambled to help him by peeling it from his body one arm at a time and tossing it over her shoulder.

Now was _her_ turn to stare.

Belle had always known that Rumplestiltskin’s body was nothing to sneeze at – after all, she had spent the majority of their acquaintance with him in the Dark Castle, where his clothing of choice consisted of a soft, silk shirt with a plunging neckline, a flattering waistcoat, and leather pants so tight that they hugged his legs and rear like a second skin. And in this world, he certainly knew what he was doing when he chose his classic three-piece suits – they were tailored down to the last thread. However, seeing him bare-armed and bare-chested for the first time was another matter entirely.

Her Rumple was _perfect_.

His skin was smooth and lightly tanned, stretched tightly over the compact, well-formed muscles of his chest and shoulders. A light dusting of pale brown and silver hair was sprinkled across his chest and formed a trail that began beneath his navel and led down his stomach and into the waistband of his trousers. Wrenching her eyes up from the tented fabric there, Belle caught herself worrying her lower lip between her teeth as she took in his nipples. They were smaller than hers, flatter, and darker, a fine coppery-brown where hers were deep pink. She wanted to touch them, and the thought occurred to her that if she had so enjoyed his attention to that part of her body, perhaps he would enjoy the same.

Her hands were on him without another thought.

Belle dragged her palms from his shoulders down his chest and over his abdomen, her trim little nails scraping lightly over his flesh. Rumple exhaled noisily; she could see his muscles quivering beneath his skin, and Belle wondered at the effect that such a simple touch could have on him. Smirking knowingly, she brushed her thumbs across his nipples, her gaze jumping to his face to watch his reaction.

It was better than she could have hoped – snarling, gritted teeth, a feral growl, the tendons in his neck and jaw standing out in stark relief… His hips canted forward seemingly of their own accord, jostling her perch in his lap and reminding her of the aching wetness pooling in her folds. When had she gotten so _sensitive_? A tiny whimper bubbled in her throat, and Rumple’s eyelids fluttered as though that sound were somehow even more pleasurable than her touches.

“Belle – you’re killing me, love.” His hands, strong and nimble and shaking, gripped her waist and massaged the softness there, and Belle couldn’t take it anymore – she had to have more of him. Slanting her mouth over his, her hands sought out the taut skin of his back and crushed his chest to hers.

The feeling of her breasts pressed so tightly against him was glorious – the soft, springy hair of his chest teasing her tender nipples and tickling her stomach. His skin was hot and his body was firm and Belle couldn’t get close enough. Vaguely she realized that her nails were digging into his skin, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. The fevered ache for him that had been building and building and _building_ since she had regained her memories was reaching new heights, and if she didn’t find some kind of relief soon, she was certain she would burst apart at the seams. She needed her Rumplestiltskin, and she needed him _now_.

Without pausing to consider the matter any further, Belle shoved her hands between their bodies and yanked on his belt buckle. Rumple cried out as her fingers brushed his manhood, and she felt an answering tremor deep within her. Abandoning her efforts for the moment, she cupped him firmly, trying to hold as much of him as she could through his trousers. Gods, he was so _hard_ – thick and hot and twitching, pressing insistently into her palm. Belle may never have known the intimate touch of a man before now, but she wasn’t entirely ignorant of the way their bodies functioned. A _cock_ , she had heard it called. According to a book she had read once, this was meant to go _inside_ her, and suddenly it made sense why every time she had attempted to relieve her own tension, she had felt…incomplete. Empty. No, having him inside her would feel infinitely better.

However, just as she was reaching back up to attack his belt anew, her fingers were stilled by his hands pulling them away.

“Belle, no, please,” Rumplestiltskin begged, shaking his head. Sweat had broken out on his forehead and along his upper lip, and his wide, dark eyes held an edge of panic.

Belle whined, near senseless. “Rumple. Want you.” She wriggled in his lap, and her hands gripped the sides of his waist instead.

Rumplestiltskin groaned and grabbed her hips, forcing her to hold still. “I can’t – I can’t,” he chanted. His thumbs stroked the skin just above the waistband of her skirt, and he shook his head again. “You deserve more than a quick fumble on the sofa, you deserve better – we don’t have to do this now, we can wait, just a little while longer, Belle, we can wait.”

“I don’t want to wait anymore!” She was sure she sounded like a spoiled, petulant child, but she couldn’t seem to help herself. She felt shaky and fragile, like she was about to fly apart at any moment, bone-deep yearning clawing at her belly, and _damn it,_ he had held her at arms-length for long enough! “Please, I just want to feel you. I – I need…”

“I know, love, I know.” She was sure his gentle caresses along her skin were meant to be calming, but instead they were having the opposite effect. Perspiration was gathering beneath her heavy, unbound hair, and she couldn’t quite catch her breath. However, it was the vulnerable, broken expression on his face that finally grounded her.

Rumplestiltskin’s voice was weak and tremulous when he spoke again, color rising in his cheeks in something that looked heart-wrenchingly like shame. “I can’t,” he repeated. “I won’t last, I…I’m so close already, Belle. I’ll never last if we – ” He trailed off, his adam’s apple bobbing. “I just want it to be good for you. You deserve that. You deserve everything, and I can’t – ”

Belle silenced him with another kiss, and he whimpered pitifully against her mouth. Her ardor hadn’t cooled – no, not at all, but she couldn’t have him thinking that he wasn’t enough for her. She had a feeling that those kinds of thoughts were a large part of the reason why he had been so hesitant to…advance their relationship, but she refused to allow him to continue to believe that she would find him deficient in some way.

“Rumplestiltskin. I don’t care,” she murmured with conviction, carding her fingers through his hair. “I _love_ you. That all by itself is going to make it good for me. I want this. I want _you_. Please…don’t push me away anymore.”

“Oh, my darling,” Rumple moaned, kissing her again, brief and warm. “You’re sure?”

Her response was leaving her mouth before he had even finished asking. “Yes! Gods, yes, I’m sure – I’ve _been_ sure!”

The enthusiasm of her answer had a grin teasing the corners of Rumplestiltskin’s mouth, and it seemed that that was all he needed to hear. His dark eyes flashed lasciviously, and Belle felt the coil of heat winding in her abdomen tighten.

“Very well then,” he rumbled, trailing his lips along her jaw and down her neck, leaving countless sucking kisses along her skin. “I still say you ought to have a bed for your first time, but to be quite frank with you, dear, I’m not sure either of us would make it that far at the moment. And if we tried to do it here, I’m afraid that I’d be done for the moment I was inside you. I’ve wanted it… I’ve wanted you for _so_ long, Belle.”

Belle thought that it was a wonder that she didn’t burst into flames at his words. _Gods_ , his _voice,_ saying such naughty things in her ear, his damp lips brushing her lobe as he spoke. Her arousal was more than she could bear, and she found herself crowding closer to him and moaning. “Please. _Please_ , Rumple, I can’t – I _need_ it. I need you, please…”

“Shhhh, there, there, my love. I know,” he crooned soothingly, petting her hair. “I’m going to take care of you. Don’t you worry.” Dragging his teeth across her pulse point one final time, he pulled away from her neck and cradled her face in both of his hands. “I have an idea. I need you to stand up and turn around for me, darling. Can you do that?”

Belle had no clue what Rumple was playing at, but whatever his plan was, he had promised to take care of her, and ultimately, she trusted him. Nodding her agreement, Belle carefully shifted her weight back onto her feet and pulled herself up off his lap. She stood before him then in nothing but her flimsy little skirt and a pair of soaking wet lace panties, and the awkwardness of the situation felt a bit more real than it had felt wrapped in his arms, so close to his body. Thankfully, Rumple simply smiled playfully and spun the tip of his finger in the air, encouraging her to turn around. Belle grinned a little at the gesture, somewhat reminiscent of the fluttery hand motions he so often made in the Dark Castle, and obeyed.

In less than a moment, the sound of rustling fabric could be heard coming from the sofa, and suddenly, Rumplestiltskin’s large hands settled on her hips. “Come sit on my lap, dearie,” he bid, urging her back. “That’s it – now put your legs on either side of mine.”

Once she had settled back into his embrace, Belle found herself in much the same position as she had been in a minute ago. However, instead she now faced away from him – his chest pressed along her back, his forehead resting on her shoulder, and his cock cradled in the soft globes of her rear. As nice as this felt, to have the length of him pressed all up along her back with his arms around her, she wished she could see his face; she couldn’t really kiss him like this, and touching anything but his arms would be difficult.

Rumplestiltskin, however, seemed quite pleased. “That’s it, darling,” he praised. His voice was soft and strained. “Now, let’s try this.” And with that, he gripped her waist to keep her from slipping as he worked his feet apart, spreading his legs. Belle’s legs were caught outside of his, so as his legs moved, so did hers; by the time he had stopped moving, Belle was leaning heavily back against his chest for balance, and her legs were splayed wide apart, prevented from closing again by his own firm thighs.

A flush burned swiftly through her. _This_ had been his plan – he’d exposed her most secret place, made her vulnerable to his touch. The thought had her panting and wriggling, unable to decide if she was more eager or intimidated.

“Shhh, my Belle, I’ve got you,” Rumplestiltskin whispered, his breath ghosting over the back of her neck and sending a shiver down her spine. “Let me show you.”

With nimble fingers, he found the hem of her skirt and flipped it up, tucking it into the waistband so as to keep it out of the way. Then, with his left arm anchoring her torso against his, his right hand slipped down between her thighs and skimmed lightly over the lace there.

“Oh!” Belle gasped, her hips thrusting forward, seeking out more of his touch.

“Is this what you need, love? Is this what you want?” His voice was like a drug, sinking into her flesh and setting every nerve ending in her body on edge.

“More! Touch me!”

“ _Yes_.” With a swift yank, he pulled the fabric of her panties to the side and slid his fingers over her downy curls. Before she knew what was happening, they had breached her folds, stroking across her hypersensitive flesh there. Belle’s hands shot out and dug into the cushions of the loveseat. She yelped and shook, and a ruined groan escaped him, the sound vibrating along her neck and shoulder blades. “ _Fuck_ , Belle! You’re _wet_! You’re so wet for me – oh, gods – ”

He may have said more, but Belle had stopped listening.

Her body was singing – his fingers were slipping through the petals of her flesh, circling her entrance and spreading her juices over every inch of her womanhood. His breath was hot against the skin of her back, his nose nudging her disheveled hair out of the way so he could mouth at her neck. She couldn’t keep still under the onslaught; her back arched, her thighs clenched around his, and her hips bucked and swiveled as her body begged for touches that Belle didn’t have the words for. The hardness of his length, like thick, hot steel encased in the fabric of his trousers, rubbed insistently against the curve of her buttocks as she squirmed, and Rumplestiltskin sounded absolutely wrecked. He was groaning and whimpering and growling like some feral animal, his teeth and tongue relentlessly torturing her neck and shoulders.

“Oh, Belle – so sweet, so wet,” he grated, panting into her ear. His calloused fingers danced along her swollen folds, teasing, stroking, reveling in her wetness. The tip of his middle finger glanced across the stiff little bundle of nerves above her entrance, and Belle _howled._

“Yes! _There!_ Right there, Rumple, _please_!”

“Oh, yes, sweetheart, there we are,” he hummed, his Frontlands brogue so thick she could barely make out the words. He was circling the tiny nubbin now, applying delicate pressure all around but never touching it directly, and Belle thought for certain that she was going to come out of her skin with need. “Do you like that, Belle? Does this feel good to you?”

“Yes!” she sobbed, rolling her hips with the motion of his touches. “So good. So good, Rum, please.”

A dark, hoarse chuckle tripped down her spine, and she could feel Rumplestiltskin burying his face in her hair. “Do you want more?” he asked. His teeth scraped the outer shell of her ear.

“Gods, stop _teasing_! I’m going to – please, give me more!”

“Very well,” Rumple murmured. She could hear the wicked smirk in his voice as he watched what he touches did to her. “As my lady commands.”

The pressure on that nub of flesh increased as he rolled it between his fingers, and Belle cried out as his left palm released her waist and began to massage her bare breast instead. He pinched and rubbed her tender nipple, gently flicking the very tip with one of his nails, and she squealed.

“That’s it, my love, that’s it. You’re doing so _well_.” Her eyes slammed shut, the volume of her cries increasing to embarrassing levels. He sounded so happy, so proud – he was _praising_ her, as though her wild flailing and helpless moans were the most glorious accomplishment, as though he were doing nothing at all. Belle felt like she was drowning in him, and he was _praising_ her. The thought had a fresh rush of wetness dripping from her core.

The delicious catch and drag of his calloused spinner’s fingers along her flesh had her throbbing, his voice had her nearly senseless with arousal, and it still wasn’t enough. Her inner walls were trembling and clenching around nothing, and as Rumplestiltskin rutted against her backside, she realized that was she was missing was _him_. _Inside_ her, as she had read. For the first time since this whole wild interlude had begun, Belle understood precisely what she wanted.

“Rumple,” she keened, arching into his touch. “I need – inside. I need you inside me.”

Belle could feel him quake against her back, his cock twitching and his hand spasming around her breast. “Fuck, sweetheart,” he groaned, overcome. “I – I can’t…”

She was practically sobbing in frustration now, her arousal becoming less pleasurable and more maddening by the second. This wasn’t enough, didn’t he _get_ it?! She could feel herself teetering on the edge of bliss, but every moment he spent teasing her entrance or rubbing that little pearl of flesh made her feel more and more like she might never achieve that high. Was it possible for a person to hang suspended just seconds from mind-numbing pleasure for all of eternity?

Fully aware that she was begging now, Belle rubbed her cheek against his forehead like a cat and ground against his hands, pleading as much with her body as with her words. “I need _something_ , Rum, please, I feel – ”

“Yes, what is it? What do you feel, Belle? Tell me,” he demanded. He sounded like a man possessed, and Belle wondered if he felt as she did, with his manhood trapped inside his trousers and pinned between their bodies, both a part of and separate from her pleasure.

“ _Empty_ ,” she mewled pitifully. The sound that burst forth from his chest at that was truly beastlike, and before she could articulate any more of what she wanted, he had thrust two fingers into her slick channel.

A breathless scream caught in Belle’s throat at the unexpected intrusion. It wasn’t painful, not like it had been the few times she had attempted to slip her own fingers into her core. In fact, the stretch she felt as her muscles hugged his fingers was extremely pleasant; it seemed her body liked having something to grip onto.

“How’s that, lass?” Rumplestiltskin growled, sliding his fingers almost all the way out before slamming them back up into her. She was so _slick_ – this was _delicious_. “Is this what you want? D’you want me to fuck you just like this? D’you want me to fill you up?” On every thrust, he crooked his fingers upward, massaging a particular spot inside her while running his thumb across her swollen little bud.

Belle wailed and bucked like a wild thing – she had never felt anything like this before. Was this magic? What was he _doing_ to her? A litany of senseless pleas poured from her mouth, and she found herself unable to hold them back. Whatever it was, she didn’t want him to stop.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he crooned darkly, licking along a particularly sensitive area of her neck just under her ear. “Let go. I’ve got you, love – come for me.”

His own hips were working against her buttocks mindlessly, clearly as lost in the moment as she was. Belle’s skin felt hot and tight all over, sweat dripping down her face and gathering at the base of her neck, under her breasts.

“You’re so beautiful. My Belle.”

That coil of fire that had made its home in her belly was tightening, tightening, winding up deep within her, right on the edge of springing loose and sending her flying.

“I love you.”

Vaguely, Belle was aware of bringing her hands up to dig into the backs of his, helping him grip her breast and holding his crooked fingers inside of her, pressing the heel of his palm into that thickly pulsating bundle of nerves.

“It’s all right, darling – come. Come now.”

“RUMPLE!”

A wave of ecstasy unlike anything Belle had ever experienced crashed over her, and she could feel every muscle in her body tense up as she rode the crest of it, leaving her vibrating down her very bones. Her inner walls fluttered and pulsed around his elegant fingers, a hot rush of wetness bathing his hand and soaking the back of her skirt. Somehow over the deafening roar of blood rushing in her ears, she caught the sound of Rumplestiltskin groaning torturously into her hair. A dampness that had nothing to do with her own body’s fluids grew between the globes of her rear. With a breathless chuckle, Belle realized that he had also found his release.

However, that didn’t stop him from continuing to stroke her folds gently, soothingly, helping to extend her pleasure and then bring her back down gradually from her high. Belle could feel herself grinning at the curious, marvelous sensations coursing through her – she wasn’t sure that she had ever felt both tired and energized before, as though every bit of her were humming with excitement but unable to do anything about it because of her heavy limbs. She was entirely limp in his arms, barely managing to sit upright in his lap and not slip to the floor in a puddle of goo.

For a long time, the only sound in the quiet little sitting room was that of their labored breathing, but Rumplestiltskin was the first to break the silence.

“And do you feel better, my love?” he asked, his voice sounding all at once teasing and earnestly curious. Dropping a chaste kiss to her shoulder blade, he brought both arms up to wrap around her torso and huddled her close to him. Belle grinned fully now and turned in his lap, wrapping her arms around him and burying her face in his neck. Now that it was over, she found herself unable to look him in the eye, but she couldn’t imagine going a second without touching him as much of him as possible.

“Yes,” she whispered happily, nuzzling his throat and kissing him there. “So much better. I’ve wanted that for _ages_.” She paused, considering. “Well, something like that anyway, but I suppose we can take it in stages.”

Rumplestiltskin laughed low in his chest and stroked his fingers over her back and arms. She was sweaty now, her skin shiny and sticky and rather unpleasant to the touch, but he didn’t seem to mind a bit. “My thoughts exactly,” he said, punctuating the statement with a kiss to her damp forehead.

“Why didn’t we do this sooner?” Belle wondered aloud, and felt him shrug.

“I didn’t want to pressure you into something too soon,” he replied. “It’s only been a week since I learned you were alive, Belle. And I’d been alone for far longer than that before. I was happy just to see your face again. And, well…”

He trailed off, sighing deeply, and Belle sat up a big straighter, stroking his cheek with the back of her fingers. “Tell me,” she murmured.

“Well, I, uh – I knew that you loved me…before. Before I sent you away. Your kiss almost broke my curse, of course it had to be True Love. But after the things that I said to you… I wasn’t so sure. I thought perhaps that your feelings for me had…changed.” His dark eyes shone with unshed tears as he covered her hand with his own, holding it against his cheek. “I could never live with myself if I thought that I had forced myself on you when you didn’t want me. It was safer just to…do nothing.”

Belle felt her lower lip wobbling at the pain and hope etched into his face. She kissed him swiftly before throwing her arms around his neck, trying to pour as much love as she could into the embrace. “I love you, Rumplestiltskin,” she proclaimed. “I love you, and I want you. I’ve wanted you since that day you caught me in the Dark Castle, when I fell from that ladder. Please don’t ever hold back with me because you don’t think I could want you. I want…everything you want to give me.”

“Oh, Belle,” he sighed, shuddering beneath her touch. “I _want_ to give you everything.”

She grinned, pecking him on his soft, swollen lips once more. “Is that a promise?” she asked teasingly, and she bit her lip at the heated look he sent her.

“Aye.” He looked like he wanted to devour her, and Belle shivered and the thought that she just might let him. But first…

“Will you make me another promise, Rumplestiltskin?”

He smirked lecherously, his hands beginning to wander across her bare skin once more. “What would you have me promise, dearie?”

“Next time,” she said, slipping a hand down his chest and settling it over his half-hard cock, “you have to let me do the same for you.” Belle gripped him firmly through his trousers, running her thumb over the tip of him to make her point.

Rumplestiltskin groaned, his head falling back against the back of the loveseat. “Deal.”

Belle giggled. Yes. She supposed she rather liked this new world.


End file.
